


Soul Collector

by orphan_account



Category: Assassin's Creed, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe, Assassin's Creed/Black Butler- Crossover, Crossover, Grim Reapers, M/M, Shinigami
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-20 00:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2408792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Assassin's Creed/Black Butler - Crossover</p><p>Malik is a grim-reaper who simply loves his job. He is collecting souls by The List, like every grim-reaper is supposed to. But one name is causing him trouble. "Altair Ibn-La'Ahad: serial killer, known as 'The Assassin'.</p><p>Oh boy...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soul Collector

He stood on the top of a roof and let his gaze wander. It was past midnight now and the streets emptied. But his job was not bonded on working hours. No. If the Department had a job for you, you did it. If not, then not.  
And this night, his list was full. Full with the name’s of souls he is going to take sooner or later.  
He pushed up his glasses with two fingers, the moon light reflecting in them, and rested one hand on the pommel of his sword, his Death Scythe.

Every grim-reaper had his own individual Death Scythe. It is a tool, with which souls are collected, and also enemies are beaten. Nothing could possibly break it.

The coat of his fluttered in the wind and he took a deep breath in and let his eyes rest on the List he got earlier.  
The List, contains the names of the people whose souls are supposed to be taken for various reasons.

But Malik didn’t care. It was his job. He was supposed to be neutral and emotionless. Like a grim-reaper should be.  
Different to some of his colleagues, Malik enjoy playing with his ‘victims’. When they understood what is going to happen, they beg for mercy and explain vividly why they should live and why they’re a good person.

Boring. Boring and stupid.

For today he was looking for someone on the List with the name “Ezio Auditore da Firenze”. Notes said ‘italian immigrant; serial killer’ and further Malik hasn’t read. And he didn’t need to. The life of mortals was uninteresting anyway. He knew it. He had to know it.

When a grim-reaper slides his Death Scythe through someone, he is able to watch the person’s life through the Cinematic Records. The memories.  
But it was mostly the same, at least with his victims. Bad childhood, bad youth, bad adulthood. Often murderers or so. As if he would care.

Mentioned Italian stood right under the roof Malik stood on. What an easy one, he thought.  
Before he took action, Malik wanted to know what this human was going to do.  
Ezio just stood there, and looked to a window, opposite side to Malik. A light flickered in it, and a woman opened it.

“You are late, Ezio,” she yelled out quietly and looked around as if she was scared of something.

“Catharina, mio amore”, Malik’s victim sang out.

The woman reached out for him as he climbed up the wall to the window.  
Malik raised an eyebrow and he grabbed his sword tighter.  
Today he wasn’t in mood to watch the last living minutes of someone. Just get done with it already!

Ezio stood in one room with Catharina (yeah that was her name) and gave her a desperate kiss.

“Wow how sweet.” Malik was standing right beside them, grinning viciously; the sword’s blade resting on his shoulders. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, little love birdies, but I need to get a job done.”

Catharina shrieked in an annoying high pitch and on while she tried to escape the room she stumbled over her own dress. Hah, how silly.

Malik swung his sword and cut Ezio’s chest, blood painting the room. Neat.  
There was no use for Ezio to try to block the Death Scythe, it cut through EVERYTHING.

His life flashed through his eyes, and Malik watched with him together. From birth, to now.  
Well he had to admit, the Italian had quite an interesting life, if you compare it with those peasants he usually has to cut.

A grim-reaper did not just collect souls, but he also has to play God at some points.  
Will the person on the List probably achieve something big in his late life, they may continue living. And if not… well, sayonara!

With this one Malik struggled. Oh and how he struggled. Ezio seemed to be mentor of some serious shit, but he also was a dishonour. Sheesh what was that?  
The grim-reaper watched the Cinematic Record to the end and the fact that Ezio was kinda a murder machine with no mercy (and that he was about to bang a woman promised to another man) he decided to switch the lights off for this one.

So…

Sayonara.

His poison green eyes gleamed with pleasure over the soul (every grim-reaper has green eyes and glasses, they’re known for being very, very myopic). He left right after the deed was done and also already forgot the whining woman on the floor, crying over the corpse of her forbidden (and now dead) lover.

What a pleasant night.

 

But his shift wasn’t over yet. The name “Ezio” vanished from the List, and the next was “Charles Lee”. Malik already knew him, because of observations. He wanted to figure out if this person would fulfil a bigger duty.

No chance.  
Lee was human-trash. Disgusting. 

Oh it would do Malik such a satisfaction to finish him off. He didn’t even want to watch the memories of his. The man was going to die anyway.  
Malik waited in a pub down town. His dark-dark-blue shaded coat was nearly making him invisible as he sat there in the dark corner, waiting for this rat to show up.

Malik investigated, that Charles often comes here to hook up with one of the pretty drunk ladies. What an abominable bastard.  
And he was right (as always). Lee showed up made his way directly to a damsel in distress.  
She was like a sitting duck, just waiting for the hunt-dog to bite her neck off.

Charles took the lady outside the pub; told her he would guide her home safely. As he turned into a corner with her, Malik took his chance. Before Lee could lay a hand on the poor female, he jumped in between and just stared with a disgusted look. His eyes greener than before, his grin: a sadistic gnashing of teeth.  
Yes, he was going to enjoy the death of this peasant in a special way.

The sword cut through Charles’ chest immediately and the blood was splashing on the wall and floor. Malik didn’t bother do pay attention to the man’s life. It had to end. Now.

Without hesitation the man was dead, and his soul- and lifeless body sacked to the floor with a muffled ‘pock’.

Malik licked his lips and appreciated his work. Quick and quiet. That’s how he liked it most.  
The young lady instead, was in shock; the poor thing couldn’t move an inch.  
He thought for a moment. Well, it wasn’t part of his job, but he couldn’t risk the life of an innocent. Especially if she’s too dumb and drunk to find her home place alone.

So it came that Malik decided to guide her home. Maybe that’d gather him extra points to reach the title “Best grim-reaper of the month”.  
But he was really not the type to care for his colleagues. He did his job like he wanted to do it. Of course he obeyed the rules like “DO NOT KILL A PERSON WHO IS NOT ON YOUR LIST!” Oh he would get in trouble for disobeying this rule.  
Nothing was known about the punishment, and those to suffer from it are not allowed to say one word.

Whatever. That’s what they get for being mindless and reckless.  
“Charles Lee” vanished from the List. A few others followed him. Not only on the List but also into death. Malik showed no mercy. He never did.  
And he never had a reason for it. Mortals were all cruel in their actions. All selfish.  
From time to time it happens that people recognize who he is and then beg Malik to spare their lives. Then Malik gets a nice told story about what a good person they are. Hey, buddy- your Cinematic Record said you just slaughtered two children. That’s not what a good person should do, you know that?

And these moments make his life good. The knowledge that you wiped out a life in order to protect many other. It was a job the grim-reapers had to do anyway, whether they like it or not (but who wouldn’t enjoy to have this much power?).

Malik preferred it to work and hunt in the night, so as the sun slowly rose above the city, he knew he was done for now.  
A smile of amusement showed up on his lips and made his face look more fondly. What was rare because he was known as the… well… GRIM…reaper. Some of his colleagues compare him with an owl sometimes. Once, because he’s just working in the dark and strikes his victims in silence and with less or no witnesses, and because of his all-time-grumpy expression.

As the first rays of sunlight touched his face he looked town to the List he got for his next work night.

And one name was really catching his interest. “Altair Ibn-La’Ahad: serial killer, known as ‘The Assassin’.

Malik, next night is going to be full of surprises.


End file.
